Sightless Eyes
by Warriorcat890
Summary: StoneClan is aptly named. With survival instincts as hard as stone, they reject the weak and welcome the strong. Anyone who cannot serve the Clan is left to fend for themselves. Spiderkit is born blind and is abandoned. Left to die, he is found by a loner who adopts him. As he grows, he is visited by starry cats in his dreams that tell him of his true destiny and his past...
1. Prologue

**ˁᴵᴳᴴᵀᴸᴱˁˁ ᴱʸᴱˁ**

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StoneClan is aptly named. Hard as stone, their survival instincts have helped them survive in their snowy, icy, mountainous home. They reject the weak and welcome the strong. Any warrior who retries from their duties is forced to leave. Any warrior who is lethally injured in battle abandoned. Any kit born with some hindrance that would make it difficult to provide for the Clan is left alone to die.

Spiderkit is born blind, and is subject to such a fate. His mother tries desperately to hide it, but fails. The poor kit is abandoned out in the snow to freeze to death, but is discovered by a rogue named Sansa. Sansa recently lost kits of her own and decides to raise Spiderkit as her own. As he grows, he is visited by StarClan and soon learns that he may have a destiny unlike any cat before him.

I apologize ahead of time if you see any of these [I][/I] in the writing. I posted this on another website and in order for italics to work there, those need to be placed. Please just ignore them. I try to take them all out, but I may have missed one, so... Sorry.

I do not own the idea of Warriors. I created these Clans and the cats inside them, but the credit of the idea of the Clans and the cats goes to Erin Hunter.

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**Prologue**

* * *

"Hang on, little ones," a tortoiseshell she-cat pleaded as she slid into an abandoned badger set. Her flanks rose and fell rapidly as she struggled for breath. She sank her claws into the musty, decaying leaves that were littered across the floor as another contraction ravaged her body. She gritted her teeth together to keep from crying out. Giving birth to kits had never been her favorite thing, but the rewards far outweighed the pain... usually. She loved kits in general, and spent all the time she could in the nursery. All she wanted was to be a loving, gentle mother, and so far, she had fulfilled that desire. This was going to be her fourth litter now, but she could feel that something wasn't right. Of course, she was older now—about thirty-eight moons, but that didn't mean that she wasn't physically capable of giving birth. There were queens in her Clan that were much older and had had many more litters than she, and they had been able to do so without complication. Despite this, she feared that this foreboding feeling had something to do with her body's condition. She had been so sore lately around her haunches, but it hadn't worried her—she was pregnant and she-cats would have aches and pains during that time, but this was a different kind of pain. Before, she had dismissed it, but now that it had intensified, it was impossible to ignore. Normally, she would have remained with her Clan and would have had the Clan healer, or medicine cat, look after her. He would assess her condition and help her through the birth, but she had refrained from doing so. She could sense that there was something wrong here, and she did not want her Clan to witness this birth.

StoneClan was a Clan with survival instincts as hard as stone. They were the strongest out of the four Clans, and were the best suited to their environment. StoneClan inhabited the high, icy mountain ranges of the north, and patrolled a large, barren territory daily. They hunted eagles, hares, mice, lemmings—anything they could find and sink their claws into. Survival was their goal, and to achieve it, they had to make sacrifices. Even though the other Clans sometimes viewed their practices to be barbaric, they did nothing to stop them. They knew that StoneClan had the harshest territory and had to do whatever it took to stay alive, so they allowed them to toss out the cats that could not look after themselves; the old, the lethally wounded, and the young that had little chance of living. Every time a cat retired from their warrior duties, they were sent out of the Clan to fend for themselves. Whenever a kit was born with any hindrance that would prevent them from helping the Clan, they would be taken out of the Clan and abandoned to whatever fate StarClan gave them.

The tortoiseshell she-cat had been thinking of this before she had gone into labor. She could not explain the feeling she had received, but she just _knew_ that something was wrong. As she lay in the badger set, beleaguered with pain, she could not help but think of a small, helpless kit, abandoned to die in the middle of the snowy, mountainous region. The image soon disappeared as another contraction brutalized her. She could focus on nothing now, but the task at hand; she could not afford to think of anything else.

After about half a sun-shift of grueling pain, she felt one of the tiny bodies inside her edge its way into the world. The newborn slipped out onto the damp leaves, and the she-cat rushed to attend to it. She picked it up by the scruff and brought it to her belly. After she gave it a few quick licks, the tiny thing let out a squeak in response to her rough tongue. The queen let out a small purr and nudged it toward her belly. The kit was a mottled black tom, and she immediately came up with a fitting name: Spiderkit.

Shortly afterward, she felt another kit move, and she began to push. A second kit slid out into the den, but this one was practically drenched in afterbirth. She gave the young kit a few licks, but she soon found that it was no use: the kit was still-born. _This is what was wrong,_ she she-cat thought with horror. _ knew that there was something foul going on inside of me! Is StarClan punishing me for something? Why else would my kit be sent to our ancestors before it could take its first gulp of air?_

The queen had little time to grieve for her dead kit—another was on the way. Bracing herself, she pushed for a third, and final time. Her efforts were rewarded as a third kit was born. To her dismay, this kit was also a still-born. _Great StarClan, no!_ she thought pleadingly, a contrite wail rising in her throat. _Do not take two of my kits from me! _Her thoughts were in vain—the spirits of the two were long gone now and were not coming back. The mother pulled her two lifeless kits to her belly with the one surviving tom and licked the afterbirth off of their pelts. She cradled them close to her body as her first-born suckled hungrily. At least he was alive and strong.

"You look so strong, Spiderkit," the she-cat breathed. She was relieved that at least one kit would be alright. "You will be an asset to StoneClan. I know you will be. You will be a great, fantastic warrior! The Clan will hail you and your deeds and one day, you will be our leader. You are strong, Spiderkit. You are a survivor."

* * *

With a heavy heart, the she-cat left her two still-born kits in the badger set when it came time to leave. She had spent two days in the smelly hole and it was finally time to return home. The she-cat carried him easily by the scruff up the mountainside. She had traveled quite a ways down so that she would have less chance of one of her Clan-mates stumbling upon her birthing site, and now she had to scale the mountain to get back to her camp.

Spiderkit dangled from her jaws, limp. The queen knew how to handle kits, and she knew that carrying him this way would relax him—he wouldn't fuss or make noise, but be quiet and enjoy the journey. The one thing she did worry about, however, was the icy air that constantly slapped her in the face. It was still leaf-fall—leaf-bare was about a moon away—but the wind had an unforgiving, chilling slice to it. The last thing the queen wanted was to have her one, surviving kit freeze to death. _My other two kits lost their lives because of me… I do not want Spiderkit to die as well because of my stupidity!_

The she-cat had tried to keep going, but when ominous, leaden clouds gathered overheard, the she-cat had no choice but to find shelter. It was underneath a half-uprooted spruce that she found it. Where the tree's long roots had once burrowed into the ground was now a relatively large crater that would protect them from the storm that was brewing in the sky. The queen had her son huddled close together in the small shelter as thunder boomed and lighting flashed across the sky, illuminating the open, almost barren forest that lay just outside the den. Water poured down from the sky, splattering against the mountainside. The she-cat had picked a good place to rest—the rainwater did not flow inside of the den, but around it; the part of the tree that was still firmly planted in the hillside provided as a buffer, causing the water to go around rather than to drip inside the den.

The squall lasted the night, and by the time dawn broke in the east, the clouds had mostly moved on, taking the rain, the thunder, and the lightning with them. The queen emerged from the den, alone at first, and surveyed the surrounding area. She gazed up at the mountain and could just barely see the large ledge that jutted out from the mostly smooth surface. That ledge led into the cave where the StoneClan warriors lived. It was about half a day's travel, but the she-cat would have to stop periodically to nurse her newborn, so it would take even longer. She suddenly began to regret picking a den so far away from the camp to give birth—she didn't remember it being so far when she had reached it. In fact, it seemed rather near her Clan. _Of course when that went on, you were going downhill and you were running as fast as you could,_ she reminded herself.

She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the day ahead of her. She was exhausted from the physical strain she had been under the past few days, and she couldn't even remember the last time she had eaten or drank something. A part of her was tempted to seek out those necessities, but she soon dissuaded herself. She couldn't just leave her kit here alone! The sooner she got him back to camp, the better. _But will they accept him? I don't even know if they'll take me back. My actions have been a little more than suspicious…_ Shaking her head, she returned to the makeshift den where her son slept peacefully. She gazed down at him fondly and determination suddenly flooded her. She could do this, and if her Clan refused him, she wouldn't let him die. She would take care of him no matter what they said.

* * *

"Berryfur!" a warrior hailed the queen as she finally reached the camp entrance. "It's good to see you again! Where did you run off to? We all thought that you had been carried off by an eagle or something!"

Berryfur didn't reply—she dared not set her kit down on the cold stone ledge. She simply walked past the young warrior and stepped into the dark tunnel that led into the camp. Here, she had to rely on her senses to lead her to the main cavern where the Clan lived. It wasn't difficult—she knew their home like the back of her paw—but she didn't want to make a mistake now.

She reached the main cavern without any problems, but all conversation came to a sudden halt when she entered. The cave, which was mostly made up of monotonous, gray stone was full of cats of different colors, breeds, and sizes. The roof of the cave was studded with gems and crystals that reflected off one another and provided a minimal amount of light. It took a cat a few moments for their eyes to get adjusted to the new darkness, but once it happened, they could easily see their surroundings, and the cats that were present in the main cavern could clearly see Berryfur standing there with a single kit in her jaws. No one moved or spoke for a few heartbeats before one of the other queens bounded over to her. Berryfur knew the she-cat well, and trusted her enough to follow her into the nursery.

The nursery was in a separate cave that branched off from the main cavern, and was relatively safe from predators, but Berryfur knew that it wasn't safe from the predators within her very own Clan. Once Spiderkit was situated in nest made of moss and feathers, Berryfur looked to the queen who had greeted her and took a deep breath. "He is the only survivor," she admitted, trying to keep her voice void of emotion. "He is strong."

The other queen—a pretty tawny-furred she-cat—gave her a quick nod. "I understand. I believe you when you say he is strong—Falconwing is a strong tom. I'm sure he'll be proud of his son. What happened to the others?"

Berryfur avoided the she-cat's gaze as she replied, "They were… still-borns."

Sympathy flashed in the other queen's eyes. "I see… Nettlestar will want to look at him personally," she mewed, flicking her tail to the small black tom.

A jolt of fear shot through Berryfur at that. Nettlestar, the Clan leader, was as cold and as hard as the mountain itself. He was very strict about who lived in his Clan, how healthy they were, and how they performed as warriors. If he found one thing wrong about her son, who came from a litter of still-born kits, Spiderkit would have no chance of staying in StoneClan.

Berryfur heard her leader's paw-steps as he descended down the small shaft that led to the nursery. She saw him a few moments later, his green eyes shining in the shadows of the small cave. The large, golden tabby tom entered the cave slowly, gazing around in a systematic manner—he knew why he was here, and he saw that Berryfur aware as well. There was no need for explanation as the broad-shouldered leader padded over to Spiderkit. He gave him a quick sniff before looking to the mother. "Was he the only kit?"

The queen gulped nervously and looked to her companion for help, but the tawny she-cat remained detached from the affair, staying close to her own litter that squirmed about in their nest. She took a deep breath before looking at Nettlestar evenly. "He is one of three… The other two kits…" she paused; she could tell him that they had died of the cold, but even that would indicate weakness. If she told him differently, the tawny-furred queen would surely correct her. "They were born dead," she finally finished with a heavy heart. Did she just sentence her son to death?

Nettlestar narrowed his eyes and nudged Spiderkit with his nose. The tom let out a squeak of protest. Berryfur prayed that he could tell that the cat near him was not his mother. Spiderkit must have realized that he did not bear his mother's scent of milk, for he bared his tiny fangs at the leader. The older tom let out a small chuckle. "He seems like a fighter."

Berryfur let out a quivering breath that she had not known she had been holding. Nettlestar looked at her coldly and walked away from her kit. She relaxed as he headed toward the den exit, but he paused at the mouth of the tunnel and turned to face her. "I will be keeping an eye on him," he meowed simply before disappearing back into the tunnel leading main cavern.

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	2. Chapter 1

**ˁᴵᴳᴴᵀᴸᴱˁˁ ᴱʸᴱˁ**

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

"He certainly is a handsome little thing, isn't he?" one of the queens crooned over the small, mottled black kit.

"Indeed," another concurred, letting out a small purr. "He will serve us well! You should be proud, Berryfur! You've brought quite a little warrior into this Clan!"

Spiderkit listened to the praise of the queens with a feeling of satisfaction. His ears had opened just recently and he absorbed everything they said like a sponge. He wanted to know as much as he could about his new world and he had discovered that their chatter was a great way of doing so. They talked constantly about the Clan's health, the amount of prey the hunters brought in, what the other Clans were up to across the border, and even the antics that were going on within the Clan itself.

"I heard that Vineflower is expecting," one of the queens mewed. Apparently this was the most scandalous news that nursery had heard in a long time, for all the queens made disapproving huffs and Spiderkit could imagine them shaking their heads indignantly.

"When will that she-cat learn?" his own mother inquired. "She's so promiscuous, and that is not a way to be!" There was a sharp edge to her voice that frightened Spiderkit. In an effort to get her to stop this unusual austerity, he nudged her belly once with his tiny head. Her body rumbled with delight as she let out a small purr. A few moments later, her tongue rasped over his back lovingly as she nudged him toward her teats, urging him to nurse. Spiderkit did as his mother suggested and began to suckle, savoring the warm, nutritious milk that slid down his throat.

"I don't know, but apparently she was getting very friendly with both Stormwind and Whitefeather," the she-cat who had revealed the news mewed in a hushed voice.

Spiderkit didn't listen with such eagerness anymore—it was usually like this when he nursed. He just enjoyed the taste of his mother's milk and the reassuring beat of her heart. That was all he needed, really. He couldn't see his mother, but he could hear her reassuring voice, and he knew that she was alright. She was his protector, his caregiver… She was his mother.

The gossiping of the queens came to a sudden halt as paw-steps sounded nearby. Spiderkit ceased nursing as his ears rotated wildly about as he struggled to pick up all the sounds. The steps became louder until they came to a standstill in the middle of the nursery. "I hate to interrupt you all," a quiet, but authoritative voice sounded from just a cat-length away. The stranger's voice sounded soft, like feathers, but it was hardly welcoming or soothing. It was also sly, almost slippery in a way. He didn't like it at all. It was nothing like the inviting, reassuring purr of his mother, or the loud but harmless chatter of the other queens.

"Oh it's not a problem, Nettlestar," one of the queens replied swiftly. Spiderkit's pelt prickled with unease. He could sense the tension rising in the air and didn't like where things were going. "How is everything with the Clan? Prey running well?"

"Yes," the tom responded. Spiderkit crept further into his mother's belly when he heard and felt the stranger's paws step closer to him. "How is your kit, Berryfur?"

"He is well," Spiderkit's mother replied.

Spiderkit knew that they were talking about him. Why else would the cat address his mother? Suddenly, a bizarre, overpowering feeling came over the small black kit. It was a longing that he was not familiar with; it was something he had never experienced before, but many kits before his time had. It was the desire to see. He wanted to look at the world, but he didn't know this at the time. His tiny brain could hardly comprehend it. Nevertheless, Spiderkit opened his eyes, in an almost desperate attempt to look at this new cat, but nothing changed.

The young kit _knew_ that something was different. His body had just changed: his eyes were open now. Despite this, he still saw the never-ending abysmal blackness. What world had he been born into? Everything was so dark! He couldn't understand it. Something was telling him that this change he had just gone under should have some sort of effect, but there was nothing in its wake. With disappointment, Spiderkit closed his eyes again. What he thought would be a massive change in his life turned out to be a very uneventful, boring aspect of life.

"Berryfur, did you see that?" one of the queens chirped, breaking the ominous mood.

Spiderkit felt his mother shift, almost restlessly. "What do you mean, Dovefeather?"

"Spiderkit opened his eyes! Didn't you see it?!" the queen demanded. She seemed rather aggravated that Berryfur hadn't noticed, and Spiderkit couldn't blame her. Didn't his mother care about him opening his eyes? The way Dovefeather spoke of it, it seemed to be rather important.

His mother's rough tongue lapped at his forehead. "Can you do it again for me, Spiderkit?" she asked in her soft, rumbling voice. "I'm so sorry I didn't see it, love."

Determined to please his mother, Spiderkit did the same thing he had done before, concentrating hard. Perhaps it would be different this time! Maybe the wonderful product he had been hoping for would finally come. To his displeasure, opening his eyes had the same result as previously; he was doomed to this shadowy world.

"Great StarClan," Spiderkit heard his mother breathe.

"What is wrong with his eyes?!" one of the other kits squeaked. Spiderkit could hear an unknown emotion in his peer's voice. Was it fear? Was the kit afraid of him?

A new thought suddenly came to Spiderkit's head: _Why can they seem to see me but I can't see them? Is something wrong with me? Or does everyone live in this dark place?_ If the other cats were like him, then how would they know what he looked like? How could they see his eyes if he couldn't see theirs? S_omething must be wrong!_ He let out a tiny, distressful wail and was immediately showered with affectionate licks from his mother. However, this did little to soothe him.

"I should have known this kit was bad news!" the stranger snarled in disgust. "The useless bone-bag is blind!"

_Blind? Is that what I am?_ Spiderkit thought inconsolably. He had no clue what any of it meant, but "blind" did not sound like a reassuring word. He cuddled closer to his mother, mewling in fear and pain. Spiderkit's pelt was bristling from the tom's voice and his mere presence. He wanted him to leave. He wanted to be alone with his mother. Why wouldn't she chase him off?

"He can still be taught!" Berryfur nearly yowled. She sounded to be on the verge of panic. "He can still serve the Clan!"

The tomcat let out a low, guttural growl. "Are you completely mouse-brained? You know the law, Berryfur. Those who cannot serve this Clan must be eliminated."

Spiderkit's hackles began to rise at the tomcat's words. _Eliminated?_ He snuggled closer still to his mother's belly, looking for warmth and comfort. She wouldn't let anyone hurt him, right? She was his mother. She would protect him. Always. She'd promised.

"Please, Nettlestar," Berryfur pleaded. "Just give him a chance! I've lost all my other kits… please."

"Do you realize what this thing will do to us?" he demanded, scraping his claws across the stone floor. The sound made Spiderkit shudder and shift farther away from him. "He is a waste of space. He'll do nothing but eat our food and sleep in our camp! He is like a black pit that we will just throw food into! Other cats that work hard to protect this Clan, and will grow up to defend it deserve it more than he will! And they will go hungry while this abomination lounges around doing nothing!"

Spiderkit waited for his mother to protest again, but there was no sound that he could detect. He felt the tom's paws hit the ground as he came closer, and the next thing Spiderkit knew, he was dangling from the jaws of an unknown transporter. Silence was all that greeted his ears as he was brought up a small pathway. The farther along he and his carrier went, Spiderkit heard the echoes of various voices; it sounded as if all these new sounds were coming from a large, open area.

As they entered the main cavern, most of the voices he had heard before quieted. Spiderkit was unnerved by this eerie stillness that he had come rather familiar with as of late. They quickly passed through the open space and then entered another tunnel-like structure. All of Spiderkit's senses were alert as they traveled; he didn't understand where he was, what was going on, or where they were going. He wanted to know, and he wanted to know now. In an effort to voice this, he began mewling loudly, trying to get his transferor to understand, but the only thing he received in return was a brusque shake that hushed him.

When the tunnel came to an end, an icy wind slapped young Spiderkit in the face, making him cry out. Memories flooded back to him; memories of the day of his birth. He remembered the violent action of exiting the warmth of his mother's body and sliding into the frigid air of the world. He remembered being carried for what seemed like ages in the blistering cold, and then finally reaching their destination. Now, he was being torn away from the only home he'd ever known, and he had no idea where he was being taken.

Spiderkit didn't know how long he had been apprehended by this unknown force, but it all came to an abrupt conclusion when the cat's grip on his scruff disappeared. He let out a loud squeak as he fell through the air and landed on the rocky ground with a small thud. The earth under his body was not smooth like that of his home, but it was hard and very cold. He began to yowl, praying that the cat that had brought him here would pick him up and take him home.

_Where is Mother?_ he wondered with misery. _Why did she let this happen to me?!_ His cries were in vain; no one came to his rescue. Nettlestar, who had brought the kit to the edge of the territory to either succumb to predators or the freezing cold, had turned back and was on his way back to camp. Never did he look over his shoulder at the helpless kit he had left to die on the mountainside.

_That weakling is not my problem anymore,_ the Clan leader thought simply, as the kit's frightened wails died away.

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A/N: Did you like this chapter? Leave a review and let me know! If you've liked what you've seen here and you wanna see more, click on my username to see more! Don't forget that if you want to find out what happens to Spiderkit next, you should follow and/or favorite this! :)


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